~ Exploring our Catholic family history

Category Archives: Europe

When The Catholic Gene premiered last month, I promoted the site by describing us authors as friends who share a love for both genealogical research and the Roman Catholic faith. Then I remembered – didn’t I once hear about a book on both topics? If there was ever a book that was perfectly suited for this blog, it would be My Cousin the Saint by Justin Catanoso. Published in 2008, it was neglected on my “to be read” list ever since. Fortunately, I remedied that by reading it to review here – and I’m sorry it took me so long to get to it because it’s an inspiring story for anyone interested in either the church, family history, or both topics.

In learning about his family’s Italian Catholic heritage, the author discovered a rather interesting fact – his grandfather’s cousin was on the road to bona fide sainthood in the Catholic Church. What is it like to have a saint in your family? Catanoso digs deeper to learn more about this saintly relation, and in the process he learns about family, faith, and miracles.

A miracle maker? In our family? Could this really be possible? How come I had never heard of this person before? And even if I had, my Catholic moorings were so tenuous that I had little means to make sense of something so incredible.

Catanoso’s grandfather’s story is one that many genealogists can relate to no matter their country of origin. At age sixteen, Carmelo Catanoso arrived at Ellis Island in 1903 in an effort to find a better life than the harsh conditions in his homeland – in his case, southern Italy (Calabria). Once here, he never looked back. Carmelo’s story is the typical American success story – and, like so many of our grandparents and great-grandparents, he became an American and spoke little of his humble roots or the family he left behind.

One of the family members back in Italy was Gaetano Catanoso, Carmelo’s first cousin. Gaetano’s life led down a different path – he became a priest. Rather than escaping the poverty and suffering like so many emigrants, Padre Gaetano saw his mission in life as an opportunity to help those who were suffering. The author describes the Padre’s call as a simple yet radical idea: “Through trust and prayer you can build your faith and soon life your own life above the muck of despair.” In a land and time where “trust no one” was a more apropos motto, the young priest slowly changed hearts, minds, and souls. In sixty years as a priest he became a humble example of faith and piety, founded an order of nuns, and was remembered years after his death for his love for God and others.

St. Gaetano Catanoso

My Cousin the Saint explores several different themes. First is the family story and uncovering the mysteries of ancestors. Where did they come from? Why did they leave their homeland? What was it like? Genealogists are well familiar with these questions. While this isn’t a book about research methods or sources, Catanoso’s story to learn more about his grandfather’s roots and his journey to meet his previously unknown cousins is one that most family researchers will find familiar.

A second theme is the process of sainthood – what is a saint anyway? And how does one become a saint? Why do we even need saints? Catanoso explores the meaning of sainthood and the church’s process to formally recognize individuals who have led saintly lives through canonization. The topics of miracles and intercessory prayer become personal when tragedy befalls Catanoso’s family.

Finally, the book is about the saint. St. Gaetano Catanoso may be the author’s cousin and he may have inspired the author to reconnect to his own Catholic faith, but the Padre’s story is one that will inspire all of us. Catanoso feels a personal connection to his cousin and calls him “a new prism through which to view life, a model of goodness to strive for, a rock to stand upon in times of sorrow.” Personally, I was struck by the Padre’s catchphrase of “in domino” – in God, always in God. His trust in God and his desire to help others in need motivates me and reminds me to place my trust in God more than I do.

In a small way, Catanoso’s family story reminded me of the parallel path of two cousins in my Polish Catholic family. My great-grandfather emigrated to the U.S. in 1907 and labored in the textile factories of Philadelphia. His first cousin stayed in Poland and became a soldier, a painter, and ultimately a resistance fighter against the Nazi regime. He was imprisoned for his resistance work and died at Auschwitz in 19 42 while his wife and son were put to death in two other camps. I don’t know if the cousin was a saint or led a saintly life, but I do know that he was a hero – and his story is one that the American cousins were never told.

My Cousin the Saint is about one man’s journey and how both family and faith affect him on his way. We all have different families, we come from different cultures, and we may even have different faiths. But traveling along with Justin Catanoso on his journey will delight and inspire you – and perhaps even teach you something about faith, family, and miracles.

Part I: Michigan’s Catholic Displaced Persons from Poland

Walking on the park like historic campus of St. Mary’s of Orchard Lake, Michigan, you’re more likely to think of having a picnic than of World War II. But here you will find The Polish Mission’s unique museums commemorating the struggle and celebrating the survival of the Catholic Polish spirit during World War II. Tomorrow, we welcome Rita Cosby to campus, author of Quiet Hero: Secrets from my Father’s Past. Her visit and story about her father’s survival as a Catholic World War II resistance fighter is a timely lecture during the month of September. It is a somber time of remembrance for Catholic Poles throughout the world: the anniversary of the Invasion of Poland by the Nazis (1 September) and Russians (17 September). Each year we will honor the brave men and woman who fought for freedom.

The museums were created by the Polish veterans who came to Michigan as Displaced Persons, living their adult lives in Wayne, Oakland, and Macomb counties. The museums, each with a small archive and library, document the Home Army, the Polish Army 2nd Corp, Polish Air Force, the First Polish Armored Division, Polish Army Veterans in America, and the Association of Former Political Prisoners of German and Soviet Concentration Camps. These museums hold survivor oral histories, art work, diaries, documents, photos, maps, uniforms and related ephemera.

The Michigan Humanities Council granted funding to The Polish Mission to develop a catalog for the general public and online lesson plans for middle and high School teachers. These exhibits, publications, and online tools serve to document the war experiences of the Catholic Polish soldiers, families, and survivors and help dispel the growing body of Holocaust revisionist literature which includes denying it happened or refusing to call the camps by the proper term “Nazi Concentration Camps in occupied Poland”. The grant work allows the museums to be shared with a wider community who, because of the Cold War and Iron Curtain, may be unaware of the deaths of 3 million Polish Christians at the hands of the Nazi and Russian armies. The museum collections transcend religion and speak of struggle and suffering as well as the hope for freedom and liberation. On a research trip to Poland with the Polish Mission Director Marcin Chumiecki, we met with museum curators and archivists who are maintaining similar collections of camp art, survivor art, and autobiographies and they await The Polish Mission’s online collections. <http://polishmission.com>.

As we prepare the catalog and exhibitions for digital display, the ancestry.com databases have helped document and help is tell a more complete history about these survivors.

What have we found? Here is a sample story that illustrates what we’ve located so far. On display in our Association of Former Political Prisoners of German and Soviet Concentration Camps (AFPPGSCC) museum hangs twelve paintings and drawings by Jan Komski. A trained artist from Krakow, he was captured by the Nazis as he crossed the border to join the Polish Free Army. His art kept him alive, drawing greeting cards and painting bourgeois landscapes for the Nazis’ and their girlfriends. Komski was assigned work duty the print shop, which gave him access to drawing materials. He and a few fellow inmates fooled the Nazis by painting credentials, staging a phony work detail, and walked out of the gates! Unfortunately, he was later recapture, and I was able to find him in two of the five camps he was an inmate. He was one was one of the 750 Polish prisoners who arrived at Auschwitz on June 14, 1940, the first day that the camp was opened. His card was obtained from the Archives of Auschwitz where he was listed with an alias (Baras) not uncommon for Polish underground soldiers. Note he gave the correct birth date.

The Auschwitz Museum holds 106 of Komski’s paintings. After coming to America, he became an illustrator for the Washington Post and he gave an interview for the 1973 the employees’ newsletter “Shop Talk” and said:

The reason I am doing these paintings is because I always thought it only destiny or providence that allowed me to live when I knew there were tens of thousands of people who died there. . . . I wanted to do something to show the misery.

O Most holy Virgin, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ: by the overwhelming grief you experienced when you witnessed the martyrdom, the crucifixion, and the death of your divine Son, look upon me with eyes of compassion and awaken in my heart a tender commiseration for those sufferings, as well as a sincere detestation of my sins, in order that, being disengaged from all undue affections for the passing joys of this earth, I may long for the eternal Jerusalem, and that henceforth all my thoughts and all my actions may be directed toward this one most desirable object. Honor, glory, and love to our divine Lord Jesus, and to the holy and immaculate Mother of God. Amen.

The origin of the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows dates back to the twelfth century, but it was not until 1667 that the Vatican officially approved a feast for Our Lady of Sorrows. Then, in 1814, Pope Pius VII added the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows to the Roman Catholic calendar of saints. He assigned it to the third Sunday in September. In 1913, Pope Pius X changed the date of the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows to September 15, the date on which it is still celebrated today.

The sorrows to which the title, Our Lady of Sorrows, refers are the seven sorrows that the Blessed Virgin suffered during the life and death of her Son, Jesus Christ:

The Prophecy of Simeon (Luke 2:34-35)

The Flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13)

The Loss of the Child Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:43-45)

Mary Meets Jesus on the Way to Calvary (Luke 23:26)

Jesus Dies on the Cross (John 19:25)

Mary Receives the Body of Jesus in Her Arms (Matthew 27:57-59)

The Body of Jesus is Placed in the Tomb (John 19:40-42)

By chance (or was it divine intervention?) Our Lady of Sorrows featured prominently in my discovery of my Danko family origins. Several years ago, one of my cousins faxed me copies of several photographs and cards his parents had obtained when they visited Poland. Since the copies I had were faxes of photocopies, the images were rendered almost unrecognizable. Fortunately, someone had written, in Polish, a description on the reverse side of each image.

A picture of Our Lady of Sorrows in the parish of Dubiecko, Poland… originating from the end of the sixteenth century.

A souvenir from the Dubiecko parish. The altar of Our Lady of Sorrows in the Dubiecko parish, to which belongs the village of Nienadowa, from which came the parents of Mr. Joseph Danko from the U.S.A.

Here was Our Lady of Sorrows, leading me to the village where my Danko grandparents lived (Nienadowa, Poland), and the parish where they worshipped (Dubiecko, Poland)!

The following autumn, I traveled to Poland and visited the parish church in Dubiecko. I arrived at the church shortly before noon, but found both the church and the rectory tightly locked with not a soul in sight. By luck (or was it again divine providence?), just as I was preparing to leave, a local nun came to ring the church bells and say the Angelus. She opened the door to the church and invited me in.

Once inside the church, my eyes fixed on the altar. There was the Altar of Our Lady of Sorrows, just as on the faxed photocopy my cousin sent me. Immediately above the crucifix on the main altar, was the picture of Our Lady of Sorrows.

The nun explained to me about the history of the church. She told me that my grandparents would not have known this church building; it was constructed long after they emigrated to America. During the time my ancestors lived in Nienadowa, parishioners worshipped in a small chapel that was located on the same site as the present church.

After leaving the church, I visited the parish cemetery where my ancestors were buried and found many graves with the surnames of my ancestors. I then visited the village of Nienadowa and discovered that there were still Dankos living there. I had a very enjoyable visit with them. I returned to the rectory in Dubiecko during the hours it was open and the pastor permitted me to search the parish records. To my delight and amazement, I found the first of many records for my Danko ancestors.

Since that trip, Our Lady of Sorrows has always held a special place in my heart. On this day, September 15, the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, I plan to meditate on the seven sorrows of Mary, to remind myself of the significance she has for the faithful in the parish of Dubiecko, and to thank her for the role she played in helping me find my ancestors.